With all the bad news in sport lately – sneezy horses, not-to-be-mentioned AFL drug results and the mighty Pies getting colder by the minute (they’re breaking my heart, again!) – one of the pivotal moments in the sporting calendar has been slightly overlooked.

The Berlin Glamour magazine Stiletto Run.

Now I know I have railed against what is and what isn’t sport in the past, and to a lot of you in reader land, running 100m in 7cm high heels probably sounds more like a crowd at the Boxing Day sales than sport, but to all the doubters I ask one question: Could you do it?

It takes the concentration of Tiger Woods, the dedication of Roger Federer and the resilience of Rocky Balboa to even walk in the damn things, let alone sprint in them.

Seriously – when was the last time you balanced yourself on 1.5cm of rubber, squeezed your foot into something the size of a banana peel and just bolted?

If that’s not sport, then I don’t know what is.

And at least the 99 women and one lone, brave, brave man who competed in the annual race were honest about their intentions.

They were in it for the money and the bragging rights that come with pulling off the ultimate victory.

It’s the ultimate competition.

Second place is first loser and winner takes all.

There are no managers, no trainers, no scientifically engineered outfits designed to slice tenths of hundreds of seconds of your time.

Just a whole lot of grit.

At the end, when 24-year-old Denise Hanitzsch bested her second placing last year by snatching victory and the $13,500 gift certificate which came with it, she only had herself to thank.

Which is handy when you have thousands of dollars to spend on whatever you want – wisely, the gal chose to spend her hard-earned prize on more shoes.

The 99 losers were left sweaty, a few were bruised and bloodied, but all were looking forward to next year.

Sadly, some stilettos didn’t make it the 100m and had to be put down.

But their demise was not for naught, for they had striven for ultimate shopping glory and their sacrifice will be never be forgotten by the competitors who had asked those dainty little straps and heels for their all.

OK, so maybe I’m going a little overboard here.

But the point is, those 14-point-something seconds it took those women and that strange little man to clomp their way to the finish line provided more sporting enjoyment than I have seen in weeks.

There was no controversy, no coaches lashing out, no drug testing, no salary caps. Just a bunch of people having a good, if slightly dangerous time.

And another bunch of people – who either suffer from cankles, or have more respect for their feet – cheering them on.

And I say good on them.

Because while stiletto running is probably never going to be an Olympic sport, at least it has its priorities right – which is competitors and fans having a good time.

Which is what I thought sport was supposed to be all about.

So while our sporting stars don’t need to start looking for the perfect pair of Jimmy Choos, maybe they should take a walk in their fans’ shoes instead.

Because I, for one, am sick, from the bottom of my new pink high heels, of hearing bad news about my favourite sports.